Any attempt to hear the bathroom lock over the noise of the airplane is futile. Standing in front of the bi-folding metal door, prepared to leave, or at least having the appearance of leaving if anyone pressed through the unlocked opening. I take a deep breath before pushing the aperture into a pleat and step out to the aisle. The flight is packed despite being a Tuesday night red-eye. The Los Angeles to New York City cross-country commute never fails to produce a vast array of passengers. From alien tourists and families to businessmen and questionable strung-out singles with inflamed eyes and whiskey breath.
Glancing back and forth between front and rear seating sections, the opposing lavatory lock slides from red ‘OCCUPIED’ to green ‘VACANT.’ Without hesitation, I slide the increasingly familiar folding door open and shut just quickly enough to step my body through the threshold. I hope roaming eyes, particularly from the staff, didn’t see passenger 3A sitting on the latrine, arms folded, waiting for me.
“See. That wasn’t so scary,” he patronizes me.
“Ah,” I lift my skirt up to expose my shaved pussy sans panties. “This coming from someone that has never been arrested on a plane before, I assume.”
He gaffs, “You’ve been arrested on a plane? For fucking?”
“No, no. Drunk and disruptive. But,” I hush him by placing my extended index finger to my lips. “We only have an hour before we land.”
I lick my lips and land a soft, wet kiss on his gin and tonic soaked mouth, grabbing his hand and demanding it on my crotch. His fingers find their place, rubbing and sliding between my pussy lips. Leaning into him more, one of his fingertips glides into me, making my walls clamp hard in anticipation. I lift my foot to rest on the same metal sheet that comprises his seat. I push his face into my cunt and he licks and fingers me like he is trying to get the last of the pudding from the cup.
His tongue circles around my opening, stopping at my clit to “ring the bell” before plunging chin deep inside me. His nose keeps bumping and sliding against my clitoris as he slurps my overflowing juices. Despite the cramped conditions, the mile high club isn’t too strenuous in a pirate pose.
“Take your dick out.”
In abrupt and energetic gestures, he lifts his shirt, pulls down his drawstring sweats, and yanks out his cock. Holding my skirt up to the bottom of my tits, I point my ass at his face before squatting down to position the head of his dick at my dripping pussy. I rock his massive erection against me, reveling in the anticipation of the insertion. With each of his hands on my hips, I ease down onto him, feeling his bulbous head compress within me, filling all uninhabited space. He moans behind me.
I angle my head back onto his shoulder so my mouth is closer to his ear. “I’m going to lift up. Push me back down as fast as you can.” He nods.
Starting slow but escalating the speed as we develop a rhythm, I bounce up and down on his lap excitedly. My thighs advance my clamped pussy up his shaft until I reach the head of his dick when 3A’s hands thrust my hips back down. As he takes more control, lifting and and lowering me faster and faster, my cunt pulsates in pleasure to climax.
“Don’t cum in me,” I moan just in time for him to withdrawal and cum against the same bi-folding that separates us from the other passengers.
“Jesus,” he tugs on his dick and a fresh load of semen erupts over his hand. “You’re not on the pill?”
Grabbing a few rough tissues from the efficient counter, I clean enough of the mess to maneuver in the tight quarters without rubbing against semen. “Of course I am, but, like, I don’t know you.”
He laughs and I smile, straightening my skirt and fussing with my hair. I pout my lips. “Sir, we are landing soon and I’m going to have to ask you to return to your seat.” I slide the lock open and walk out leaving the door open to the line of waiting passengers.